


Bedhead

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25735393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: A moment mid-duty.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 21
Kudos: 187





	Bedhead

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Sulu calls him in the middle of the night—or what feels like the middle of the night—a rare sliver of time between shifts where he’s allowed to turn the lights off and _sleep_. He knows his crew wouldn’t disturb that precious sleep if it weren’t important, though there’s no panic in Sulu’s voice; he simply requests his captain’s presence on the bridge. Apparently, they’re caught between two different starship transmissions—both Federation, both with ‘difficult’ captains—and neither is accepting Sulu’s authority as ‘acting captain’ any longer. 

Jim hears the request through one ear, the other smothered by the pillow. His hand drapes across the mattress to the nightstand, poised over the open communicator. As soon as Sulu finishes talking, Jim mumbles, “Acknowledged,” and snaps the communicator closed. He’s too tired to care if they tried pinging his quarters first and got nothing. Trying his personal communicator next was the polite thing to do, even though the bridge crew probably could’ve figured out which quarters Jim was actually in. 

The communicator gives a little blip to signal it’s turned off again. Jim’s left to roll onto his back and stare groggily up at the shadows on the ceiling—recess lighting keeps the room from being pitch black. Around a yawn, he mutters, “’Guess it worked out for the best that we didn’t have the energy to fool around last night, so I’m not in such desperate need of a shower.”

Spock doesn’t make his usual protest at the ‘fool around’ euphemism, a term ‘unbefitting of a Vulcan.’ He does suggest, “If you plan to begin your shift early, a shower would be prudent.”

“I don’t. I plan to be back in a few minutes.” He still sounds sleep addled. Spock doesn’t. Spock’s eyes are closed, but his voice came out perfectly even. He stays nestled under a double helping of blankets and doesn’t bother looking up when Jim rises. Jim settles back against the headboard, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Bones has been hounding him for weeks about proper R&R, and he’s starting to think he really is in desperate need. Which means the crew must be too. When squinting through the darkness proves fruitless, Jim mutters, “Lights, fifteen percent.”

The room illuminates enough for Jim to spot his green tunic, draped over the end of the bed. He fumbles it on while Spock corrects, “Lights, one hundred percent.”

“You don’t need to get up me; it didn’t sound like an emergency.”

“I am already awake.” 

As Jim clasps the wrap-around tunic together, Spock sits up next to him, reaching out. Long, familiar fingers slip through Jim’s hair, and a shiver runs down his spine at the spark he always gets from their contact—the light, tantalizing brush of Spock’s consciousness against his own. Spock meticulously brushes Jim’s hair into place, as though the crew won’t be well aware that Jim just rolled out of bed. Jim doesn’t move until Spock seems satisfied and withdraws. 

Then Jim turns to peck Spock’s cheek and clamber out from under the covers. “I’ll call you if I need you.” He probably won’t, but then again, Spock’s combined skills as first officer and science officer are invaluable. And his comforting presence on the bridge often makes Jim’s exhaustion more bearable. On a whim, Jim returns the favour—runs his hand quickly through Spock’s still-bizarrely-neat bowl-cut, ruffling the black strands out of place. Spock gives him a dry look before sinking back down to bed. 

“Good luck, Captain.”

Jim heads out with a yawned, “Good night, Spock.”


End file.
